Calming waves…

The cruel wind of post-Covid fatigue blows strongly here at present and brings with it the winter of creativity…

The counter to my hyper creative side is a deep low, something I’ve talked about here previously as I have grown to acknowledge, understand and accept. However it is different when I’m just tired. Recognising this allows a degree of self support and kindness, rather than lament the loss of that urge to create, to draw, paint or make - accepting the opportunity to be quieter, more reflective. 

In these moments old friends become part of the ritual, large piles of favourite books grow next to the sofa, my butterfly mind fluttering from prototype to prototype. The act of flicking through a book preferential to an iPad, which in these circumstances can become a portal to doom scrolling and the last dregs of life drain through my swiping finger.

No, the tactile touch of paper, pages, books. Deliberate acts create and curated their content, it is perhaps this intangible but deliberate energy that I feel as I let the black and white photos of railway scenes long gone wash over me, like waves crashing on a stony shore, hopelessly trying to smooth out the beach, break down the rocks into sand. Become calm.

Sunday mornings, even with the puppy playing, find Bronwen, my Dachshund and I snoozing on the sofa. Writing and reflecting on this experience and sharing it with you all an important recognition and acceptance. Enjoy your day. Until next time, more soon…

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